


Memento Vivere

by loveiscosmicsin



Category: Final Fantasy 15, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Final Fantasty XV Spoilers, IgNistu, IgNoct, IguNistu, King Noctis Lucis Caelum CXIV, Kingsglaive Advisor!Ignis, M/M, Minor Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:29:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7936480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveiscosmicsin/pseuds/loveiscosmicsin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is the power to reclaim the crystal throne worth sacrificing a certain king's humanity over? This is a question Ignis found himself constantly agonizing over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memento Vivere

**Author's Note:**

> From my tumblr: Just in case anyone forgets that I’m IgNoct trash and love to tease out my headcanons. This ship is like my default when I’m in doubt and XV was responsible for kicking me out of that horrible writer’s block lol I hope you don’t mind me dedicating this silly thing to some names but feel free to ignore me. These people just make shipping IgNoct worthwhile even when I don’t talk to them much, but when I do, I love having that sense of community in the fandom: @ffxvcrazyfangirl, @letshareapapou, and @noctisscientia. Random, random free write appeared, realizing that I don’t write enough IgNoct as I want to. I get nervous about portrayals and my writing style all the time so it’s okay to tell me if I fucked up.

Blood-red eyes, brilliant and starry as rubies, the color of war and passion, haunted Ignis.

The power of the crystal and that of the deities fought during their journey coursed through Noctis’ veins. Surpassing crucibles, he siphoned their will and utterly dominated them. He continued to be stronger everyday, testing the devastating effects of his abilities but without knowing the limitations. But the recklessness was a necessary evil. He was a one man army to be unleashed like a storm.

War did not permit the luxury of being cautious when the Niflheim Empire had endless machines of invincible might at their disposal.

It was so very wrong.

The eyes who could see the light of departed souls, once cobalt became changeless and sempiternally crimson. The eye color was a symptomatic consequence to these new powers.

Ignis dared not wish to know what other drawbacks had occurred or would in the near future. He did not contain all the answers about astral shards and divine intervention. Not only did he profess disbelief of the extraterrestrial and they collide with scientific facts, these newfound powers that the king possessed had little correlation to the Caelum dynasty. He felt helpless in self-investigations he conducted behind the sovereign’s back, whether his findings led him closer to the truth or further away from, only escalated his guilt.

“I know that look. You got something to say.”

“How did you know?” Ignis regretted those words he had blurted out like a fool.

He had requested a private audience and so the two had scaled up to the wall walk of the Lucii Resistance Base. He must have lost his nerve to speak when Noctis had to initiate the conversation. There was no backing down at that point and he could not tell his liege a lie; transparency was the strongest aspect of their relationship.

Noctis gave him a noncommittal shrug though his eyes were soft with concern. Ignis was beside himself with bated breath, anticipating the return of the blues without any logical reason as to why. “You’ve been spacing out a lot. I’d have to be blind and dumb not to notice.” He chuckled as he leaned his arms on the stone ledge.

“Ah. My apologies, Highness. I mean, Your Majesty.” The advisor adjusted the frame of his glasses to his face to dispel the slip of the tongue. He cleared his throat, his viridian orbs following where the king was looking at.

Despite the inevitable arrays of dyed pinks, yellows, and oranges in the sky, sunset, above them, soldiers and civilians alike were engaged in their activities and did not appear to be dispersing any time soon. The days were short, but the nights were longer. But time that could be afforded towards the war effort and to boost morale for the lives they cradled was essential to victory.

Noctis’ eyes were briefly fixated to the horizon, face and regal robes aglow with the last orange rays. King or not, ‘Highness’ was always Ignis’ address of endearment towards him. He was his prince, he was his king, and the only one he would ever stand with.

“Ignis, you can drop the titles. It’s just us here. You know me.” A ghost of a smile graced Noctis’ lips as he held his right-hand man with unquestionable reverence.

Ignis took a breath and upon exhaling, words tightly formed the inquiry, “How do you feel?” He need not specify what he was referring to.

“A little disoriented, but better.” The young king raked his fingers through the relaxed raven hair. “Stronger, even. I’m faster, more powerful than I’ve ever been. He studied the signet ring bequeathed to him with an indiscernible expression before flexing his hand, undaunted by the significance bound to it. “Niflheim is gonna wish that they had a fucking treaty to protect their asses, now.”

Noctis was a responsible and pragmatic leader, despite being compelled into this role prematurely, owned the decisions he made and learned from his mistakes. He was also a fearless crusader and a true and loyal friend. One of his defining traits, the boundless capacity for empathy allowed him him to reach out to others instead of turning their aid away.

This was what Ignis feared of losing.

That the new powers would consume the man that he devoted his entire life to and in the end, become a shell of who he once was.

He could not allow those fears to become a reality.

Ignis Scientia, the Lucian Count and second-in-command of the reincarnated Kingsglaive, swore fealty that he would serve King Noctis Lucis Caelum CXV until his dying breath. He bore the scars across his chest to prove his claim. Should the king fall, the strategist vowed to avenge him and follow him to the goddess of death’s embrace.

“Memento mori.” The strategist said, quietly. The skull pendant around his neck suddenly feeling heavy. Remember your mortality. That’s what Noctis had told him when he presented him the pendant. It had gave him something to reflect on, a humble reminder that living in the moment was vital and his own resilience was necessary to see the true king on the throne.

“What?”

You’re not superhuman. You’re not an infinite source of power. There’s no telling how long you could exploit your abilities before doing serious harm to yourself, the words surfaced from the back of the advisor’s mind.

“I beg you,” Ignis’ throat swelled and his voice shook. “To not throw your humanity away. Stay you, stay true to yourself, if at all possible.”

“What happens if I don’t?”

The prevailing scent of cinnamon wafted in the air, mystifying and delaying Ignis’ reaction as he stood before Noctis’ challenge. He could never understand why such an alluring spice made his heart squeeze like it did or why Noctis carried it about him when he did not possess the cologne. All that he did knew was the particular scent had momentarily sedated him.

The strategist seized the king’s shoulders once he shook free of the scent. “Please, this is no joking—”

Noctis smirked.

Ah. Of course. Judging by the king’s aloofness, the humor expressed in his features, the slacked muscles under the advisor’s fingers, they revealed more than the explanation required. Ignis did take things too seriously to not detect a joke when there is one.

“If you can’t listen to reason,” Ignis dismissed his anxiety with a chuckle seeking to match wit with the king’s recalcitrance. “Then I suppose I’ll try things Gladiolus and Prompto’s way for once and beat it into your thick skull until you pay heed to my words.”

“Hey, if it’s you, I don’t think I’d mind that at all.” The king’s tone and now violet hues in his bold irises, suggestive and welcoming to the idea, much to his advisor’s chagrin.

“I think you grasped where I’m getting at for now, but there’s one last thing I need to say.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Memento vivere.” Ignis cupped his gloved hands on Noctis’ face, poring over the shorter man’s stunned expression and committing it to memory as it would be his last. “Remember that you must live, Noctis. For us. For me.” He concluded as his palms slid down the back of younger man’s neck and their foreheads touched.


End file.
